Really
by Tosa
Summary: After a long time apart, Antonio and Francis pay Gilbert a visit, only to find that their friend is hiding a terrible secret. ONEshot AU, implid RussPrus


When they knocked, the door cracked open the tiniest bit, so little that the chain binding it from the inside hung. When Gilbert saw them, though, his smile was dazzling, and after shutting the door they could hear him scrambling to get the chain off as fast as he could.

"_Guys!_ I haven't seen you two for freakin' _ages!_" He embraced each Francis and Antonio tightly as they came in. While the air was squeezed out of him, Antonio couldn't help but think how sharp the other man's shoulder blades were beneath his hand. "It really has been too long," the brunette agreed.

With his trademarked whirlwind of energy, Gilbert ushered them in, slamming the door shut in the process. "C'mon, we can sit in the kitchen. The sofa in the living room's a piece of shit, anyway; we'd be in each other's laps."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Francis crooned.

Gilbert snickered. "Hah! Well, you're totally right, but I wouldn't want Ivan getting jealous."

For a brief moment, Antonio thought he saw a certain stillness pass over Gilbert's face, but before he could decide if it had really been there, his friends were sitting down at the kitchen table several feet away. Antonio scrambled after them. Wincing at the screech let loose by his chair scraping the floor, he lowered himself into his seat.

"So how've you _been?_" Gilbert asked eagerly. "I feel like I've been cooped up in this place for months! I have no clue what anyone's up to!"

"Nothing's really been going on," Antonio said with a shrug, picking at a hole in his jeans. Francis let out a skeptic snort.

"Oh Antonio, _please_." He turned his full attention to Gilbert then. "Elizaveta's holing herself up in her work like some tragic little hermit. I mean, not that what happened wasn't awful, but _really_… Feliks is dating that sweet little childhood friend of his, what's it… Your Ivan's ex, I think."

Gilbert laughed. "Jeez, that woman is nuts. I used to see her on the job, but she's been cagey, like you said. All butch, in her pantsuits…" Again, the fleeting stillness passed over his face, and with his next comment, he cleanly passed over the subject of Ivan. "…How's the piano nerd?"

Francis quirked an eyebrow, his smile taking on the tone of a wince. "…Shouldn't you know? You _are_ family."

Gilbert shrugged. "We've never been close." That was true, in a way. If not, Antonio would at least agree Gilbert and Roderich had never liked each other.

Francis must have been thinking the same think, for his wince evaporated back into the gleeful expression he usually wore when sharing gossip. "Oh, well, I see him all the time at work. He's quiet. Not as quiet as Ludwig. He's still healing, I think, but he's doing better than your brother. I hear Roderich'll even be promoted soon."

Gilbert nodded absently. He became preoccupied with scratching some paint that had already chipped a significant amount off the table. "…That's nice for him." He sounded resentful. "What about everybody else?"

Francis gave a flippant wave of the hand. "Oh, they're their usual selves. No one has any money, except Alfred. Arthur's still an alcoholic. Oh, and speaking of those little lovebirds, they are _disgusting!_"

Antonio gave his beaming friend a withered look. "Don't be a hypocrite!"

"Shut up, Antonio." Francis rolled his eyes, still grinning like a maniac. "An-y-way, they've been going at it even during the work day. I call their desks all the time, and they're always at a 'meeting'. Then you walk past Alfred's office and there's _clearly_ a lot of grunting going on in there… Though I'm sure Ludwig's told you. I can just imagine how much that would piss off a stiff like your brother."

At the mention of Ludwig, Gilbert became awkward. He looked down and scratched the back of his neck. "…Um."

Antonio nudged Francis's side. "I don't think they're talking, still," he whispered.

"I'm right _here_." They both looked at Gilbert. He was frowning, silvery eyebrows arched in annoyance. "But yeah, Francis, just to be clear, we aren't."

The blonde man pouted. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you were still angry at each other."

Gilbert lowered his eyes again. "It's not entirely about that anymore," he admitted.

Francis and Antonio exchanged looks before leaning forward, elbows on the table. They must have looked silly, like they were trying to share a secret when no one was there but them.

"What happened?" Antonio asked, about the same time Francis said, "It's about Ivan, isn't it?"

Antonio looked at Francis, surprised. Across from them, Gilbert nodded. "You know how Ludwig is," the white-haired man said with a scowl. "All those years I spent fighting his battles for him, it's like he thinks he's gotta' return the favor, or something."

Francis shrugged. "You are brothers. That is what brothers do."

Gilbert gave a childish huff. "Well, whatever. He's being a real dick about it."

Meanwhile, Antonio was whipping his head back and forth between the two, trying to catch up. "What are you guys talking about? Did I miss something?"

Francis looked like he was about to respond, but Gilbert cut in. "Ludwig accused Ivan of being a _danger_ to me and all this crap, so I'm not talking to him right now."

Antonio's eyes widened in surprise. "Wow – like, a danger _how?_"

Scarlet eyes darted to the side. "Tch, like, you know. All this crazy shit. That's not even true."

"Like what, Gil?" The albino fidgeted. Francis joined in. "Tell us, Gilbert. If it isn't true, it shouldn't matter."

"No, it just…" Gilbert sighed. "It bothers me to think about, okay? Like, that's how bad it is." He crossed his arms over his chest. "He said… He accused Ivan of beating the shit out of me. Which he doesn't."

Francis frowned. "I can see where that would be troubling."

Gilbert nodded. "Yeah, and he threatened to kill Ivan if he did it again, but –"

"Wait," Antonio cut in. "What do you mean 'again'?"

Gilbert's eyes widened. "I-it's not…" He let out a couple indignant breaths, looking everywhere but at Antonio. "Just… You know, Francis."

Francis shrugged. "I don't know if I am able to tell it the way you would."

Antonio's gaze retained its usual kindness, but with an added firmness that made Gilbert unable to meet his eye. "Gil," Antonio said, "please just explain what you mean."

Pursing his lips, Gilbert shoved his hand through his hair, his other arm still crossing his front. "Ivan… sort of… bruised me."

"Sort of?" Francis crinkled his nose. "I don't think Ludwig would become livid over _sort of_."

Gilbert shot a deadly glare at him. "_Fine_. He gave me a black eye."

Antonio's hand flew to his mouth. "_What?_"

"…And a broken rib. But it's not a big deal!" Gilbert waved his hands, trying to get his now panicking friend to settle. "It was a one-time thing, and besides, he didn't mean it!" He shot a look at Francis, as though for confirmation, before talking rapidly again. "He just got a little mad and forgot himself for a second. He wasn't even aiming at me! He just sort of went into a frenzy!"

"Over _what?_" Antonio wondered if this was what it felt like to have a panic attack. He felt two hands gently being placed on his shoulders, followed by Francis's voice. "Antonio, calm down. It's alright."

"Does it matter?" Gilbert answered, pouting. "It won't happen again."

Antonio allowed himself to be pressed back into his seat, all the while practicing his breathing. Gilbert persisted.

"Please don't be like _mein bruder_, Tonio! Ivan's not some crazy monster! He's just a guy! _I'm_ a guy! I can handle this! I can take it!"

Antonio swallowed, his throat dry and sore. "_Can_ you take it?" He looked right into Gilbert's eyes. "Can you take _him?_"

Seeing Gilbert glare at him like that made his stomach hurt. "I can't believe this! I thought you guys were going to be on my side! It's just _passion_." Gilbert was almost whining now. "Like, come on, you guys fight all the time! With Lovino, with Arthur…"

Francis frowned. "What does Arthur have to do with any of this? I told you, he's sleeping with– "

"I don't hit Lovino," Antonio broke in, softly. "Never once."

Gilbert pursed his lips, glaring at Antonio while he tried to think of a reply. "…I told you he wasn't aiming at me."

"And another thing," Antonio added. "_Fighting_ with someone isn't the same as being screamed at by them–"

"What are you _implying?_"

"_It isn't a fight unless you fight back!_ Does Ivan have a single bruise?"

Gilbert started to stand up, Francis following suit. "Gilbert," Francis protested, "he's just shaken. He'll come to understand, it's alright."

"Don't touch me!" Gilbert snapped. "_Gott_, he's just like _bruder_, jumping to conclusions!" To their shock, he seemed about to cry. "You know he had the nerve to ask if Ivan raped me? Who _says_ that?"

At that moment, Antonio was reminded of Lovino's wild accusations towards Ludwig regarding his brother. He thought of Ludwig, who had always been very patient with Feliciano. It was so irrational of Lovino because, if anything, he himself could be much crueler to his sibling.

All at once, his resolve began to soften. With a weary sigh, Antonio said, "I'm sorry, Gil. That has to be hard."

His friend nodded, scrubbing his eyes and trying to look tough. "_Yeah_, it's fucking _stupid_, too. You can't get raped by somebody you're _dating_."

Antonio's face fell. Before he could muster up a response, however, Francis caught his expression. Placing a hand over Antonio's, he shook his head to show that now was not the time.

As this exchange took place, Gilbert had started to babble. "I mean, it's just _sex_. Everybody feels like they're not in the mood _sometimes_, but you can't just _refuse_ to do it. It's not fair for the other person. I mean, if you wait around, you might never feel like doing it at the same time. And…" He pinched the bridge of his nose. "_Gott_, it just pisses me off!"

"It's alright, Gilbert," Antonio said softly. "You're right. I was overreacting."

Immediately his friend smiled at him, though the expression was a little weak around his eyes. "Good. 'Cause I can't have, like, you guys _and_ Ludwig nagging me." After a glance around the kitchen and seeing his friends remaining still, he sat back down. "Ivan's really a nice guy," he reassured them. "You'd like him."

The two tried to smile at him, but he must have sensed the lack of sincerity in it because he said, "No, really. I thought he was super creepy at first, too, but he's really awesome. Really."

There was something about the way he said his favorite word that made it sound different. Maybe it had less enthusiasm, so it sounded forced. Or maybe it was the fact he'd felt he had to reinforce it with another "really". Whatever the reason, Antonio found he couldn't settle his nerves for the rest of the visit. Try as Gilbert might to reassure them that he was fine, Antonio knew he wasn't.

They stayed for a while longer before Francis politely made up a meeting for them to be late to. Gilbert seemed devastated to see them go, but he hid his distress with a large smile and only half-playful demands that they would come back to visit him frequently. "Really," he reminded them, "it's been _way_ too long since we've done this."

Before they left, each man embraced him. Again, Antonio made a note as he touched his hand to Gilbert's shoulders. This time, he couldn't help but think how small the space between them was.

They bid each other goodbye and then the door was closed. Antonio barely gave Francis time to walk down the steps to the apartment's parking lot before he got in his face.

"You _knew!_" Antonio cried.

Francis's face was solemn. "Yes."

That was it, then? No denial? At a loss, he asked, "How could you not _tell_ me?"

Francis shrugged. Antonio scowled at him. "Francis!"

They stopped walking. The darkness pressed in around them, perforated by the light of nearby streetlamps and the distant spark of human life flooding through apartment windows. The two were standing several feet apart, the black of the tarmac between them like an abyss.

Francis sighed. "What do you want from me, Antonio?"

The brunette bit his lip. Why was he acting so apathetic? "How did you find out?"

Francis paused, thinking, watching his feet as he started to walk. It was getting very late. "I went to visit last month, and Gilbert's arm was broken. It took him forever to come out with why."

Eyes growing huge, Antonio whispered, "He didn't mention a broken arm when he was telling us about..." He wasn't sure what to call it, so he trailed off.

"You're right," Francis said. "He didn't."

"Oh, God!" Antonio stuffed his hands in his hair, staggering to a lamppost. Supporting himself by one hand on the cold metal, he cried out again; "_Ay, mi dios!_"

"Alfred's the one who told Ludwig," Francis said as he watched his friend. "I'd had a bit of a hunch from the beginning."

Antonio squeezed his eyes shut, body completely bowed over where he stood. "At least he's told somebody! What have you done?" He began to unbend himself, then. "We have to get help!"

"No," Francis said firmly, shaking his head. With every protest Antonio tried to issue forth, France gestured for him to stop.

"But _why not?_" Antonio wailed. The dam had finally broken. He was terribly afraid – for his friend and for themselves. What would he do without Gilbert? How could Francis be this way? It was all just so _unfair_.

His finger shaking, pointing at his friend, Francis ground out, "We just _can't!_ It's as Gilbert said. We don't understand."

He offered a hand to his weeping friend. When he could hardly stand, Francis supported him on his shoulder all the way to the station, where they sat in silence, unable to speak but for one conversation.

"I'm holding you to that."

Francis looked at Antonio questioningly. The brunette sniffed, whipping his eye on his sleeve.

"The visits," he clarified. "You and I are going to see him every week. Every day, even."

"Yes," Francs agreed, voice and expression soft. "Of course."

…

But they couldn't make it every day, after all. Work kept piling up until it was a week later and the two still hadn't made their way back to Gilbert's apartment. By day ten since their visit, Antonio got antsy. "We have to go," he said. "No matter what."

And so they went. But when they got there, their friend couldn't come to the door. The man Antonio recognized as Ivan told them through a chained crack in the door that Gilbert was very ill, and though he was sorry they had come all this way, he would not be able to speak to them today.

"When can we see him next?" Antonio demanded.

The violet eye peeking out at them swiveled towards Antonio. "Not until he heals."

The door was abruptly shut in their faces. "Come on. We'll come back another day," Francis coaxed.

But Antonio couldn't move from that spot. All he could think about was the man they'd just seen, the one Gilbert had defended nail-and-tooth. Antonio thought about his friend's attempts to reassure them and the man's brash reception just then and knew that he didn't deserve Gilbert.

And Gilbert didn't deserve this.

"Come on." A hand fell on his shoulder. "We'll come back. Really, we will."

With one last searing look at the door, Antonio allowed himself to be steered back down the steps, away from his Gilbert's apartment, away from Gilbert's myriad of troubles. Away from Gilbert.

* * *

I wrote this spur of the moment last Sunday. Amazing, I actually wrote Francis into a story without torturing him. :) There are some vague references to a certain time period in world history – which I did so vaguely as to avoid maybe being inaccurate. :') It's not cheating! Plus this is an AU, anyway!

I've really wanted to write on this subject for a while, so tell me how I did.


End file.
